


Spilling

by ravenhairedtrickster



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Injury, young!Fíli, young!Kíli
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 04:56:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenhairedtrickster/pseuds/ravenhairedtrickster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin returns home wounded much to both his young nephews surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spilling

**Author's Note:**

> I find myself very fond of writing these three in this setting. I guess this could be a second ficlet in relation to 'Rusted'.   
> Excuse any errors.

They had waited all day, locked within the confines of their small cabin on the outskirts of the town. It wasn't their cabin per say but for the past few weeks their uncle had rented it having found work. 

Kili bounced up and down, tugging on Fili's braids cruelly causing his brother to squeal.

"Stop!" Fili whined, Kili only giggled, perhaps too young to understand as he refused to let go. 

"Fili, Fili," he repeated, a large smile on his face despite his brothers disapproving scowl.

He was about to pull the braids again, maybe try to hang off them when Thorin came through the door. Suddenly Fili's braids were forgotten and they both ran to their uncle. They faltered when they noticed the thick blood sluggishly oozing its way down Thorin's leg, his grimy worn trousers plastered to his thigh where the wound was.

"You're hurt," Fili said approaching with Kili now in tow behind him.

"Hurt," Kili echoed bringing a thumb to his mouth, a habit he'd developed when he was uncomfortable or scared.

"Yes," Thorin grunted. He had hoped his nephews would've been busy playing in their room, or napping. He hadn't wanted them to see this.

Fili surprised him when a small hand found his own, even in spite of the dirt and ash coating it. 

"You can't leave it like that," the eldest of the two said and Thorin had to smile at Fili's knowledge.

"No I can't," he agreed. 

Fili turned, guiding Thorin to the small kitchen, Kili bounding to their uncles other side to take his free hand. When they stopped Thorin found himself being ushered to an old wooden chair by Fili, trying not to chuckle at the determined look on the young dwarfs face.

"Got to clean the wound," Fili said, turning to the low cupboards. Thorin was somewhat surprised when Fili retrieved some sealed ale. He made a point of reminding himself later to hide that where his nephews couldn't find it. When Fili returned he promptly offered the ale to Thorin to open. Reluctant because it was perfectly good ale, Thorin opened it.

Fili put it on the floor beside him before poking at Thorin's trousers.

"Can't clean with them on," he said. Now Thorin chuckled and instead of shuffling out of them, tore up the leg, revealing the ugly gash.

Beside them Kili started to cry, his cheeks becoming wet by fat tears as he stared at the blood and torn skin, his thumb firmly in his mouth. Thorin smiled as he gathered up his crying nephew. 

"Shh, little imp," he murmured, gritting his teeth as Fili dumped the ale on his leg, the golden haired dwarf uttering a soft apology because he spilled it everywhere. Kili sniffled loudly but continued to cry, small shoulders heaving as he wailed. Thorin held the little bundle of tears to his chest, gently bouncing Kili as one would do to calm a baby.

After a few minutes Kili had stopped, his big eyes closed after tiring himself out. He laid curled in Thorin's embrace as Fili finished his sloppy handiwork.

"There," Fili said, sounding rather triumphant though the fabric he had wrapped around the wound was soaked with ale and the floor beneath their feet was a sopping mess. 

"Is that it?" Thorin asked and Fili seemed to think for a long several seconds before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Thorin's injured leg. 

"What was that for?"

Fili smiled. "Mama used to do that."

An image of his sister, Dis, flashed before his eyes and he gave Fili a sad smile. Taking Fili's hand he stood and made his way to the bedroom. There he laid a drowsy Kili out before placing Fili beside him. 

"Perhaps time for a nap?" He suggested and Fili nodded, laying his small head of honey hair on the pillow.

As Thorin turned to leave Fili asked, "How did it happen?"

"Accident during forging," he replied evenly, thankful when Fili just accepted his answer and shut his eyes.

Shutting the door behind him he went back to the kitchen after fetching a needle and some wound horse hair. As he began to stitch the gash closed he thought on the knife that had inflicted it and how important it was he shielded his nephews from the truth. Men weren't fair, nor were they kind; a knife to the leg after an accusation of stealing. 

Thorin tried not to dwell on the racism of the town or his employer. Tying the knot to finish up he sensed perhaps it would soon be time to move on. Everyday he grew more and more weary of leaving Fili and Kili alone while he worked and although another move would uproot the two it had to be done. 

For where men grow restless there is no safety.


End file.
